Best Sullivan Poems
Smiley full lips,
silky smooth,
luscious and glistening,
juicy and glossy,
pouting and alluring,
succulent and irresistable,
sweet, sexy and heavenly,
that's me and my lips.
I paced as the coffee brewed
To one spot Sully stayed glued
"Dad where is my mom?"
She was held in Guam
Because her pug nose was skewed
My Sullivano photographed bad
He was a simian ghost so sad
He was dispirited
Now he posed for an ad
" Uncle Sully goes to nuptial bed"
Meenie stands erect in the mews
This morning she has heard a news
Sully has gone to hell
To collect a bombshell
Safe for a ghost? she has to muse
My pet ghost Sullivan was quite beyond the pale
He smoked my tobacco pipe and sipped my ale
He danced before my wife
Who was a squid in real life
She Kicked his butt and he started chasing her tail
Sully kissed Meenie on the spur of the moment
She was nursing her ass a cute boil to foment
Love really ached
The cute boil was baked
Meenie screeched like a ***** Sully made no comment
Cubism or impressionism
Wife Laura looked through her prism
She saw the open sea
Made her eternal plea
God give me back my squidism
Sullivan/Sully/ Sullivano= my pet ghost
Meenie= my female tabby cat
Laura= my wife a squid
Sullivan was sick Oh Meenie played a trick
She kept under his pillow a fresh fish stick
Sully smelled a heaven
Devoured like a raven
And he stretched his legs "Oh I have dropped a brick"
Hey no ifs ands or buts about it
problems come from a bottomless pit
Chicken roasts and all
the roots of your fall
My Sullivan needs a work permit
Sullivan heard the professor's talks
Nodded his head and reached for the woks
The Quantum Theory
Is tomato puree
He learnt this in the school of hard knocks
Sullivan is my pet ghost
Sullivan was happy as a bird
Sent my Meeni a Valentine card
"Oh my sweetie would be wife"
"You are the breath of my life"
She snorted, "I've joined an avant-garde"
Sullivan stole my dime
He was taxed with the crime
In my backyard
My Sully feared
He might pay with the rhyme
Sullivan=my pet ghost
Meenie was clamoring against higher prices of milk
My Sullivan hit a clinker he was not of that ilk
Sullivan screeched a lot
My Meenie shot her bolt
And both in revolt ate turnips artichokes and silk
Meenie= my pet female cat
Sullivan=my pet simian ghost
Sullivan, my pet ghost
Lives in my mango tree
Loves cottage cheese
Plays chess with me
Always loses game
He loves my cat Betty
A Felix parabolus
Who has long ears
Hears distant sounds of rats
She also loves Sullivan
One day they vanished
I have no mango tree any more
We take neither fish nor dairy products
A spook and a cat
strange bedfellows
Dr, Ashfalt has invited me
To write a thesis on Katzegeistung
At Hogwarts University.
How many of you remember “The Ed Sullivan Show”
The latest talent emceed by a mannequin like troll
Neck always seemed sore
Think he once swore
All the latest acts appeared on this Sunday night casserole
You know my Sullivan a pet simian ghost
Rolling in blanket as warm as toast
'Watch out, it's my territory', cried out my cat
Just returned from a mission ' to smell a rat'.
It was an eviction but Sullivan braved it out
Clapped his eyes on the grinning feline's snout
He had the world by the tail and he stood erect
Jumped through the hoops to get my bed wreck'd.
And Meenie my cat was not of irrational type
She really hated to blow a hype
She purred and mewed and got her dues
Of milk cream fish broth salami huge.
I was sad for my Sullivan the ghost
In the dead of night he asked for a roast.
The windows shimmer in a fit of snow and wind, early in the season,
with a smack of uncertainty. Snow and bitter cold frost the glass like
half of Dad’s old Chess pieces. Through glass we peer dimly as if looking
for a dream.
Playing Chega de Saudade on a dry piano carries authentic tones
of the bitterness which Dr. Denning captured in her account of a
1970s or 80s trip to Russia among Bohemians yearning to hold on
to an unbridled youth and freedom not possible in the West since.
I never read her book but find its contents indelible some 15 years
since taking her class in the early months of 2008. Through the glass
passes fleeting scenes of the past to make the world a little warmer.
Two timelines eventually converge into one, leaving the rubbish behind.
Arthur Seymour Sullivan
a favoured operetta manfa
He partnered WS lyric
so popularity was quite quick
He's gone.
Death has stolen him
Where has he been hidden?
I search and search
But cannot find him
It won't be the same without him!
What have you done, death?
You've taken the wrong person!
Take me instead, and spare him
For everyone needs him more than me
Pry his drumsticks from my dead hands
And give them to him
For he needs to live on
To make beautiful music
For the fans who miss him so.
(NOTE: I've written this poem in memory of my favorite drummer, and my favorite band.
James 'Jimmy' Owen Sullivan, Aka The Rev, died on the 28th around 1pm. He was the
drummer and backup vocalist of the band Avenged Sevenfold. The cause of death at the
moment is natural causes. Is it just me or is it kind of odd that he died on the 28th and he
was 28 years old?)